A Sudden Gift

{photo by kDarling Photography}

“Sometimes love is a surprise, an instant of recognition, 

a sudden gift at a sudden moment that makes everything different from then on.” 

― Deb Caletti

Someday, you'll have a birth story. Someday, your dad and I will tell you about that day, and the funny things that happened, and the way we loved you as soon as they held you up and we met for the first time. And how, not long after that, it will be hard to remember when you weren't here with us, and I won't remember calling Millie and Walter without calling for you, too, and watch you pitter-patter into the room. It will seem like we've always been a family of five. It will seem like you've always been covered in our kisses.

But for now, I am still so surprised by you, little one. I'll tell you how.

~

I only found out because, after feeling sick for a couple weeks, I started getting a sharp pain on my side. I immediately diagnosed myself with appendicitis after a quick Google search, and resigned myself to emergency surgery. My mom told me to see a doctor, but I explained to her how many times I'd (possibly) had acute appendicitis before, and miraculously survived. Then circumstances shifted, and suddenly, I wondered if it was an undetected pregnancy going terribly wrong. I texted Sky but otherwise said nothing (since my appendix had just recovered moments before). As I passed Walter in the hallway that morning, he wrapped his arms around me in a big hug, then casually asked, "Are you pregnant?" I'd never heard him say "pregnant" before, and had no idea why he would bring it up like that. Stunned, I said no. And a few hours later, I bought a test at the drugstore and took it home. I was only ruling it out, so I could go back to my original worries that WebMD provided.

Two pink lines showed up, immediately and clear as day. I sat on the bathroom floor and stared, in disbelief and, simultaneously, terrified. I gasped and started crying. Before I could think of a sweet way to tell Sky, I video-called him at his desk in the middle of the workday, and sobbed the announcement. His eyes widened and he smiled, but I was a wreck. It was a lot to take in at once, to both be surprised by a pregnancy, and only knowing about it because I suspected something was not okay. I called the OB nurses, who deciphered my story through shallow breaths, and instructed me to go to the emergency room. Sky met us there.

After a quick rundown and a change into the patient gown, they took me to the dim ultrasound room. The man calmly announced that I was 9 weeks, 6 days pregnant. My mind reeled, because I knew with Millie and Walter as early as anyone could know, even before a positive test. Choking on the words and staring at the dark ceiling, I felt tears streaming down my face as I asked, "Is...it okay?" Yes, he assured me quietly. Everything was fine. The baby was right where it was supposed to be.

Sky and I kept the secret for a while. We had to get used to it ourselves (although he insists he really knew). But a few weeks later, just a couple days after we told the kids, I had a different, much more real scare that made me sure I would wake up without a baby. I called my mom and asked her to pray. I held tight to Sky that night and wondered what the next day would be like. I wondered if I would lose a child without anyone knowing it existed. I never had to think about that before. It was if my body and I were on opposite sides, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was the most helpless feeling I have ever felt in this world.

The next morning, the doctor had me come in. I tensed up as they searched for the heartbeat; they found it. I looked at Sky, too overcome to say anything. Then another ultrasound. I worried about the kids being there if something wasn't right. I gripped Sky's hand as they moved the wand over my stomach, remembering how we'd done the same thing twice before, but without any fear. There was the head, the arms, the legs. There was the heart again, beating visibly on the screen. The tech laughed as she tried to take the right pictures and measurements, because the baby was incredibly active, doing somersaults and tricks. Maybe God knew we needed that.

I realized that, while it is such a personal choice, I didn't want to keep it a secret anymore. If something did happen, I needed to be able to mourn and have people mourn with me. But we had good news to go on, so we had to have faith that everything would be fine. The next day, nervous as I was, we made it public. Through all the congratulations, I hoped I wouldn't have to share heartbreaking news later on.

Since then, all my checkups have been completely fine. and my belly is getting decidedly rounder. I've been a lot sicker this time than I ever was with the other two, and I'm still figuring out how to cope with that well. Sky has been the sweetest husband ever, and friends have brought meals over. Our house isn't as tidy, and life has had to slow down, but we are learning to navigate it. Millie and Walter talk about it all 50 times a day.

All this, and somehow, it hasn't felt real yet. We bought a stroller, discussed names late into the night, and talk about what the future will look like, but I still don't really believe it.

~

It's been a bumpy roller coaster ride, sweet one. So you can understand how I was surprised, and continue to be. Yet just this week, I have begun to feel your smallest of kicks, reassuring me that you are not only there, but that you are healthy and strong. You have my attention.

In a few days, we will find out if you're a boy or a girl. And late this summer, in the full heat of August, we'll all be introduced. Maybe you'll have blonde hair like Walter, or auburn like Millie. Maybe you'll be the spitting image of your dad, or favor my side more.

With all the uncertainty, I am sure of this one thing; you are a gift. And you will be so very, very loved.